I like your face
by nohablataco
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Yamamoto brings everyone a gift bag except for Gokudera. This bothers him. (8059)(oneshot)


I know it's not Valentine's Day, but I had this scene in my head for a long time. Be gentle with me! OH AND BEWARE THERE IS SOME STRONG LANGUAGE! But other than that it's rated T. (:

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Valentine's day.

A very annoying, tantalizing holiday that reminds the lonely people of the world that they are indeed still lonely and girlfriend/boyfriend-less. And to rub it in, heart-holding teddy bears are given and received along with chocolates, and roses are exchanged with blushes and teenage awkwardness, or hugs and kisses of gratitude and love. The whole thing was completely pointless, and very disgusting.

According to Hayato Gokudera, anyway.

He sat in the classroom, his face rested in his palm, waiting rather impatiently for the whole gift exchange ordeal to be over and done with. Girls crowded together in the corners, marveling over their new teddy bears or bouquet of flowers. Guys fiddled with their chocolates, their faces a light shade of pink.

Where the hell as the teacher?

"Hey, Gokudera."

The silverette looked up to find the boss standing before him, a rather giddy expression on his face. He cradled a small white teddy bear in his left arm, and a card in his right hand. Gokudera gave it a sharp, cold glance before cocking an eyebrow at the boss.

"Tenth? Don't tell me that you're..."

"I got it from Kyoko," Tenth Boss said, scratching the back of his head, a cheeky smile on his face. "I had gotten her a rose...it's kind dumb, isn't it?"

Hayato was quick to defend his boss. He hated to see him think low of himself. "Of course not, boss."

The boss chuckled lightheartedly and looked around. "Where's Yamamoto?"

Hayato snorted in derision. "The baseball-obsessed idiot? Probably making those damned gift bags he makes every Valentines day."

Hayato reflected on the year before when Yamamoto rushed in class twenty minutes late with arms full of gift bags. He remembered ridiculing him for such a pointless act, but Yamamoto argued that it was the only thing he could do to express his 'gratitude' to all his friends. He refused to believe that it was a day only for lovers.

As if on cue, he heard a familiar voice, "Ah, Tsuna! Happy Valentine's day!"

Yamamoto had a big grin on his face as he approached the duo. He had one arm behind his back, where Hayato presumed to be holding their gift bags. His amber eyes landed on Gokudera, and his grin settled into a small smile. "You too, Gokudera."

He just snorted in response.

The boss smiled. "Did you already see the others? Your arms are empty."

"Yep. This time I filled them with caramel chocolates and pocky. I mixed it up this year. Haru seemed particularly happy about that," Yamamoto pulled out his hand and revealed a baseball themed gift bag with the boss's name on it. "Anyway, here you go." Gokudera had his hand out already, ready to take his bag and offer some rude remark, but his hand had remained empty. He looked up and saw Yamamoto frown.

"Ah, sorry, Gokudera, I didn't make you one this year. I know how much you hate these." He gave another one of those annoying nonchalant smiles that pissed him off.

Hayato was honestly taken aback by surprise, and a slight tinge of anger. "Uh...right. I...okay, yeah, no problem. Doesn't bother me."

But it did bother him. At first, he didn't realize that it bothered him, but it began to pester him like an incessant buzzing in his ear, a persistent mosquito. Hayato thought about it when he least expected it. He would be going about his business until he spotted one of his friends and would think: Oh yeah, the idiot didn't make me one this year.

What bothered him more is he couldn't figure exactly why it bothered him so much, and this pissed him off. Yes, he despised the damned gift bags, but he had always received one from Yamamoto. It was like a tradition that he had grown accustomed to, and to not get one this year was... uncomfortable. It felt very out of place.

It was lunch time, and Hayato decided to isolate himself behind the gym, where there were hardly any people at all. This is where he usually found his peace if he couldn't find solitude on the roof. As he approached his spot by the bleachers, he spotted a few figures on the baseball field. He groaned and started to turn around, until he realized that one of those figures belonged to Yamamoto. He knew that form anywhere - agh, when the hell did he start watching his form?

Hayato hid behind the bleachers and observed quietly, popping a cigarette between his lips. One guy kept tossing baseballs at Yamamoto, which he hit almost every time, the crack of wood sounding through the air. Yamamoto's stance never faltered with each swing, even with the swift movement of his waist. Gokudera could see how much he improved since freshman year.

He didn't realize it at the time, but Hayato was watching Yamamoto rather intently, his hands on the bleacher that was eye level to him, peering through the slit between the benches. Yamamoto was really excelling on his swings. Hayato had been to a game or two, (mostly from the influence from the boss) and he never realized how much passion he put into it. Hayato felt a tug of jealousy tug on his mind. He wished he was as passionate about something, but he would never in a million years say it out loud. Especially to Yamamoto, the Vongola member he found most annoying, next to Lambo.

The over-friendliness, the innocent, naive boy act, or the 'let's work together' attitude, Hayato couldn't decide which one annoyed him the most. And that stupid lopsided smile that he does when he knows he's winning, and the way he bites his lip when he's concentrated on something (much like he was now) especially pissed him off and the way his eyes-

...the fuck?

He exhaled a puff of smoke and grunted, shaking out the muddled, confused feeling from his mind along with the image of the baseball idiot's face. _Stupid... what the hell is wrong with me?_

Gokudera was too busy being confused about his own thoughts that he didn't notice that Yamamato had finished practice.

The pitcher took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his matted down hair. "Dammit, Yamamoto, it's hot as hell out here. I'm done for today. I'm giving my Valentine's gift to my girlfriend," he gave a wink, "and good job today."

Yamamoto said something in response, but Gokudera couldn't make it out. He saw him jut out a thumbs up and walk in his direction, his baseball bat in his right hand. Composing himself, Hayato shook his head once more and casually came out from behind the bleachers, hoping that he wouldn't spot him and even accuse him of stalking. But he was too late.

"Octopus head?"

He cringed at that lousy, annoying nickname and in that instant all the pent up anger and confusion was directed towards the baseball freak. Whatever admiration he had earlier for him had diminished. "What do you want, moron?"

"Uh, nothing? What are you doing over by the gym?" Yamamoto matched Hayato's quickened pace. He was sweaty and smelled of grass, as usual. Hayato assumed that he had been running around the field before he arrived.

"Having a tea party, the hell do you think?" He put as much ice into the question as possible. He tossed the cigarette butt on the ground and put it out with his boot.

"I was just asking..." He heard the offense in his tone for a split second before he resumed his cheery demeanor, "Anyway, Tsuna, me and the rest of the group are meeting up at the movies this weekend. Are you going?"

"Nope."

"Um...why not?"

Hayato regarded Yamamoto with actual eye contact for the first time. "Because you're going." In truth, he was very tempted to go because the boss would be going as well. But he couldn't let Yamamoto have the satisfaction of having his way, and plus, he was pissed at him anyway.

"Ah, Gokudera, don't act like that!" He laughed and clapped his hand on Hayato's shoulder. "It won't be fun without you."

Jesus, did this guy ever give up? Hayato shoved the sweaty hand off his shoulder and shot him a glare. "Look, I don't want to go. Leave me the hell alone."

Yamamoto stopped in his tracks, which made Hayato stop as well, although more out of surprise. He had that stupid look of concern on his face, as if he was looking at an abused puppy in the rain. And that was the last thing Hayato was, a helpless baby.

"Gokudera, is something... wrong? You're being more cold to me than usual." His words were practically dripping with worry and sympathy.

He stared at him, his fists balled at his sides. What the hell was he supposed to say? That he was pissed off because he couldn't stop thinking about him in a weird way and was pissed about not having a gift bag and how he's passionate about things and he's not? He just wanted things to go back to normal - when he didn't care about how Yamamoto looked when he played baseball and he could call him names without that nagging ball of guilt in the back of his mind. When all he was focused on was being the bosses' right hand man.

He dug his fingers into his palms. Hayato sighed and looked up at Yamamoto. "The bag."

This didn't provide much explanation, and Yamamoto's worry-filled eyes transitioned into deep confusion, and now looked like he was trying to decipher some coded message. He tilted his head. It vaguely reminded Hayato of a kitten. "Bag?"

"The gift bag, moron!" Hayato was now getting frustrated with him, and didn't understand why. He knew his face was red, he could feel the blood boil in his cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger, he didn't know, "You didn't make me one! I hate Valentines day, but that was our thing, you know? You give me a gift bag, I bitch and moan about how it's pointless, you retort. Bad-a-bing, bad-a-boom, done. But no, you have to make it so damn complicated."

He found himself breathing heavily and looking at the other in desperation for some sort of response. Yamamoto's confusion never left his features, but he seemed to have some grasp of why he was upset. Hayato accepted Yamamoto's silence as his cue to go on. He was going to regret his next choice of words, but he was on some sort of confession adrenaline rush, and it felt good to let it all out. He just wanted to let him know, and if he denied or accepted, he would have to deal with later.

"I like your... face." Hayato's voice came out cracked and he immediately started to shake his head, his face growing hotter by the second. "No, I meant... ugh, shit, I don't know how to put this. I like how you're passionate about baseball, and shit..."

Hayato had been thinking about how Yamamoto looked earlier when he was practicing swinging, but his words didn't match his thoughts. Although the message apparently was received, because Yamamoto's expression shifted into slow realization. His eyes widened and his cheeks started to redden, and all the pieces fell into place regarding Hayato's behavior. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything the bell sounded throughout the campus, signaling that lunch was over and class was starting again.

Yamamoto smiled and scratched the back of his head. "I uh, we have to go to class."

He jogged past Hayato, leaving him bewildered and feeling quite foolish. He felt like he had thrown some sort of tempter tantrum and the parent had dismissed them to their room to reflect what they had done. And reflecting on it now, he wanted to crawl in a hole and die. He fumbled in his pocket for his cigarettes, feeling jittery and definitely embarrassed. Hayato was not going to the movies this weekend, that much he knew.

"Ah, Gokudera?"

He spun around to find Yamamoto by the entrance to the gym, his hand on the door handle. He was grinning.

"I like your face too."

And with that, he went inside.


End file.
